Option 2: The Future of Human Connection In a world increasingly driven by technology, how can we preserve, strengthen, or reimagine authentic human connection? With more technology at our fingertips, personal connections are in jeopardy, more accessible and riskier at the same time. In seconds, we can transmit our message far out in the world, yet we feel invisible in the same room. This is something I have firm understanding of not as theory, but as a lived experience. As a teacher for high-need and special education students, I experience the power of authentic human connection on whether it reinstates a child’s sense of belonging or erodes it, when it is missing. The future of human connection hinges on our capacity to practice leading with empathy, presence, and purposeful relationship building. My classroom is not merely a classroom, it is a relational ecosystem. I teach students in an inclusion setting kids with learning differences, emotional needs, trauma histories and foster care experiences. Many arrive bearing invisible burdens instability, unmet needs, and the idea that the world has determined who they are. Technology can be a tool for learning, but it is the human connection that unlocks it. A smile of encouragement, a slow conversation or a willingness to listen often does far more than a digital gadget. Before students encounter the content, they must first feel safe, valued and understood. Technology has changed how students learn, but it can never take the place of human connection. I have watched students curl up behind screens when they feel misunderstood, as well as those students thrive when someone makes time to get to know them. The future of human connection should not ever seem to be one that refuses technology, but to reimagine how using technology to replace human relationships might help or hinder our relationship in many ways. Technology should promote compassion, not silence it. From within a classroom, my desire for human connection has spread the same way into the community. Through my work with foster children, in both my community and as part of a nonprofit organization that mentors young girls, I have learned that connection is not something that’s achieved in grand gestures, but in showing up, following through, and being present. Most of the people I serve have broken trust and broken relationships. Rebuilding connection takes time, humility and emotional intelligence all things no machine can replicate. Having strong relationships changes lives, because they create mirrors that people can look into and see their value. I have listened to students who could not communicate because they were ashamed of being perceived incorrectly. I have witnessed families regain hope when they feel listened to, not judged. These are the moments that confirm my view that it is through human connection real change happens. Technology can affect how we communicate in ways that the human race never has, the first task we have to solve is to stop putting efficiency ahead of empathy. Algorithms can anticipate behavior but not understanding. Artificial intelligence can take in information, however, it can never copy compassion. The future is for leaders who realize that connection is not an indulgence, it's a need. Authentic human connection requires us to prepare the next generation by teaching them to be a deep listener, to communicate honestly and to be brave. It must involve designing systems educational, professional and social that focus on relationships over transactions. As an educational leader and advocate, I plan to keep developing spaces for connection that is intentional and engaging, especially for those who have been neglected or marginalized. This scholarship is more than just financial assistance, it is an investment in a vision of the future in which human connection is the core. What I have learned through education, advocacy, and community service is that progress is not about innovation but about the care that we give one another on the journey. When people have a connection, they feel empowered to learn, grow and lead. The future of human connection will not be built by technology alone. People who choose empathy over indifference and presence over distraction will build such solutions. I am committed to having those kinds of relationships.

When my students walk into my classroom the first thing I notice is not their disability, it is their courage. A lot of my students come to the classroom bearing invisible burdens: learning differences, trauma, poverty, unstable housing, or a history of being underestimated. I teach in an inclusion classroom; that is to say, my students with special needs learn alongside their classmates in general education. Every day I continue to fight for my students without letting it stop me. I am a teacher of at-risk students, most of whom are receiving special education services. I know bright, able kids who are struggling not because they are incapable, but because the world views them differently. These moments are the source of what fuels my ambition not for titles or accolades, but for change. Educating in an inclusion setting requires more than lesson plans. It demands patience, and empathy, and creativity, and constant advocacy. Too frequently, special education classrooms are short of funding and personnel, and inclusion teachers are told they’ll just “make it work” in inadequate training or support. However, through all the struggles, I remain equally passionate about developing safe, affirming places for children with disabilities to be found, heard, and valued. My drive arises from the understanding that once a child finally starts to be understood, the confidence that follows a child’s journey and the transformation it can have in life is quite powerful. I am studying for an advanced degree in education so that I can have an impact that can go beyond my classroom. My ultimate goal is to be the advocate of purposeful, resources-rich, dignified inclusive practices. I hope to practice at the intersection of special education, curriculum design and teacher support helping educators to provide for the educational needs of students with disabilities and families and communities. I hope to shape policy, professional growth, and instruction so inclusion is not an afterthought, instead a standard. What’s so inspiring to me is my students’ resilience. I think of the child who had a hard time reading but rejoiced in every single one of these little triumphs. The child who required extra time, patience and encouragement and blossomed when all three had been provided. These are the times that remind me that access does not represent a luxury but a necessity. When society refuses to let people with disabilities play, it’s not their inability to do so that stops them, it’s ours. More than a financial support, this scholarship honors the life of Kathleen Lehman. It recognizes the need for professionals who are committed and compassionate, who refuse to make inequity feel so much more of a given. I am determined to be one of those professionals. I have a service-first approach to life that is informed by empathy and rooted in the belief that every learner has the right to an education without condition. I keep my students’ stories as a duty and a promise. With that, I promise to use my career as an opportunity to advocate, educate, and lead with purpose. Students with special needs don’t have to be asked to fit into an inaccessible world as a burden, but as part of a world designed to support their success.

Adversity often doesn’t announce itself loudly. Occasionally it comes up quietly in a child who steers clear of reading aloud, in a family who can’t afford school supplies, or in a foster youth who learned not to trust adults. As a teacher serving at-risk students, I witness these realities daily, and they have shaped my dedication to serve where the need is greatest. One of the most critical and challenging issues my students are faced with is literacy. Many come to my classroom reading below grade level, discouraged and absolutely persuaded that reading is a fault of theirs that they can't improve. I make an effort to alter that story. I develop foundational literacy skills in students with targeted reading instruction, small groups, and continuous encouragement. When a child eventually does read alone and perhaps for the first time, it’s more than academic progress. It is empowerment. Literacy unlocks spaces for understanding, self-expression and opportunity and empowering students to read is one of the most powerful ways I work to reduce educational inequity. I am not only dedicated to my students academically; I have a commitment to community service. I attend back-to-school bashes which give students and families of students supplies, resources and motivation before the start of year. These events alleviate some of the financial hardship faced by parents and support families in starting school feeling prepared and supported. For many families in historically low-resource communities, access to backpacks, books and school materials is what really makes the difference between school starting with anxiety or hope. My opportunities to serve in these initiatives means I am able to provide holistic services to students academically, emotionally, and practically. My service focuses on advocacy, as well. As a Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) I have advocated for foster children in complicated legal and child welfare processes. This position placed me on the case file, court hearings page, and advocating for decisions that serve the best interests of the child. Most foster kids have multiple changes into and out of their school and they experience learning gaps. I know that their voices and needs should be heard. Doing this work has reinforced my conviction that relentless advocacy can alter a life path. Additionally, I serve young girls within my connection to the Proverbs 31 Foundation, a nonprofit that mentors and empowers girls in leadership and faith-inspired support. Using mentorship and programming, I enable girls to be confident, realize their significance, and picture a life beyond the ones they currently experience. Most of the girls I work with have instability, low self-worth or few of the positive role models available to them. Helping their growth further convinces me that early intervention and support creates lasting change. What I have learned from education, advocacy, and community service is that significant change will not come from isolated moments. It will come from sustained dedication. What I want to tell everyone up against adversity is: don’t take your situation as your failing or failure Ask for help and have support, take baby steps, and let others stand beside you. Progress is built through persistence. This $500 Scholarship means much more than money to me. This is an investment in service. In my ongoing studies, I will amplify my own contribution as an educator and an advocate, to produce programs and initiatives in literacy, in support of families and in empowering vulnerable youth. My work embodies action, accountability and purpose. Through investing in education and community, I'm creating change!

One year I walked away from graduate school, I felt like I failed God, myself, and the future I had prayed for. Divorce in 2005 had already stripped my sense of security, but giving up my academic dreams felt like the ultimate confirmation life had chosen a new path for me. I was not, by default, leaving because of lack capability or aspiration; I was leaving because to exist forced me to. Bills replaced books. Healing replaced hope. Faith was all I had when the rest of it collapsed. Years later, a diagnosis of adversity showed up again. In 2011, I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. That moment forced me to come face to face with the price of all those years of giving to others at the expense of self-diligence. My body was carrying a constant burden of chronic stress, loss, and exhaustion, although I had been strong for everyone else. The diagnosis was terrifying; it was also a divine summons to pause and reassess and live my life with intentionality. There were seasons when I was full of doubt. I wondered if the lost train of thought was punishment or permanence. However, faith showed me that waiting isn’t being denied, and making detours aren’t negating intent. I started to recover physically, emotionally and spiritually in prayer, discipline, and lifestyle changes. I discovered that obedience is often appearing as winding down, and strength means to start fresh. Twenty years after I first began my studies, I was back in graduate school, not the woman I had been, but the woman adversity had made me into. Returning was intimidating. I was older, divorced, living with a chronic illness, and dealing with the rigorous demands of a teaching career in a high-stress Title I school. Every one of those classes became a testimony. Education was not merely a prospect of success, it became an act of faith. I walked with purpose, not under stress. Life struggles have changed the way I lead, teach, and serve. They have taught me to feel compassion for those struggling behind the curtain of life. Faith makes me pour forward, and that is why I participate with the nonprofit I am working through called Proverbs 31 Foundation who empowers girls with mentorship, support, and leadership development centered around faith. In this process, I help young girls realize their God-given worth and that hardship does not disqualify them, but prepares them. I am here as living proof of the broken seasons that still create lives with purpose. To anyone struggling with divorce, with illness, with the heartbreak brought on by interrupted dreams, my advice is this: trust God in the pause. Do not confuse struggles with failure or put off victory. Focus on your healing, look after your health and cling to the vision God planted in your heart even when going back to it takes years. My story is not a story of perfection, but one of perseverance based on faith. Struggles have redefined my trajectory but not robbed my life of its meaning. I plan to leverage the help of this scholarship to continue to transform pain into purpose, faith into action, and my journey into hope for others who are still finding their way.

Mental health has profoundly impacted who I am, how I lead and how I see the world my mental health is related to. It has impacted my ambitions, my relationships, and what it means to be successful it is no longer just something I get out of something, but to achieve it in something larger and sustainably purposeful. Mental health is not something separate in my life mental health is part of everything I do as a teacher, student, leader, advocate and lifelong learner. I was in education nearly 30 years, in particular in high-needs schools at a very young age and I knew early on what service-based work entails. I found out pretty quickly that for us to show up for people we need more than skill or passion we need emotional resilience. Over time, I realized that mental health is not only about dealing with the crisis but also how it is to live day to day, have self-aware self-awareness, and be able to recognize that it is permissible to have limits without shame. Upon recognizing this, I rethought my vision of myself and my mission, moving me from a life of struggle to a self-fulfilling reality of wellness. My professional mental health journey revealed my purpose. Leadership is no longer about tireless effort, or selflessness. I don’t see it as a fault; I think, instead, that it’s a duty for me to be a role model not just one of moderation, or emotional intelligence and self-compassion, but also of the ability to see other people in their true states and care about them too especially in a place where burnout is the norm. I have this in me a lot as that realization has been directly correlated to me wanting to have a leadership role that is higher and other public relations or advocacy work around whole person work. No longer are my aims to climb more ranks just for my profession now, I want to build systems and places, spaces where mental health is recognized, cared for, and centered for teachers, students and communities at large. And mental health has been changing the way I have formed and maintained those relationships with people. I have learned to draw your boundaries; to know the importance of honest communication and empathy for people, yes, but for oneself. In the past, I thought of strength in terms of silence and perseverance as overextension. I discovered, from my introspection and from life, that the simple truth is, vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but one of trust and authenticity. Making this change has cultivated my relationships and enhanced my ability to feel more connected with my colleagues, students and loved ones. I listen differently. I lead with compassion. I am more present, more patient and more responsive to the invisible struggles people bear today. I have come to understand mental health differently as an educator, and that has had a lasting impact on how to engage with students. I understand that behavior is often a direct reflection of unmet emotional needs, and that academic achievement is closely tied to an individual's ability to thrive emotionally. This realization has influenced my teaching philosophy my classroom culture and my work for trauma-informed and culturally responsive practices. I'm no longer viewing students as just a result of things happening to them (or data) but as whole people whose mental and emotional health influences how much they will be able to be successful to lead flourishing lives. Mental health has offered me a kinder and more equity-focused vision of education. On a more macro scale, my mental health experience has changed my perspective on the world. I’m more sensitive than ever to the systemic dynamics that are more crushing on marginalized communities, educators and students in under resourced schools included. I witness stigma, access barriers and excessive expectations drive cycles of stress and burnout. This recognition drives my dedication to campaigns for mental health and to policy changes that treat the crisis of mental health not as an individual failure, but a state of affairs. It has made me even more strongly determined to raise the issue of mental health, especially in professional spaces where it is not often discussed or understood as an open topic. Life with long-term responsibilities in between those positions of power of leadership and management, both with professional responsibilities and professional roles and health, has been an epiphany for me and has taught me that mental wellness is a process, not a destination. There are clear moments and clear times of challenge but with each have been moments to validate my belief that to be sustainable success emotional health must come in the mix. So this knowledge has shaped my career outlook and academic aspirations especially towards my interest towards a doctorate to enable me to master both the art of leading by skill and empathy. My education isn't just about learning and learning, but about how to make some positive, impactful, supportive change. But my involvement in mental health has been something that has grounded me. It has taught me to evaluate success not by a degree or a title or a record, but by alignment between values and actions, aim and balance, achievement and responsibility, service and self-care. It has made me into a leader who thinks taking care of mental health really is an act of strength and responsibility and justice. In my aspirations and my relationships and my way of looking at the world, I will never shake the belief that when people’s mental health is taken into consideration, we have the ability to rise not to perform, but to thrive.

What excites me about special education teaching is that it is rooted in dignity, identity, and possibility. Professor Harold Bloom’s call to action “to bring the student to his or her sense of his or her own presence” speaks to why special education is so important. For a person to experience his or her own presence is greater than academic success; it is an acknowledgment of one's capacity, self-worth, and an acknowledgement that one belongs. For students with special needs, this perceived "presence" is continually challenged by labels, barriers, and the repetition of statements of limits. With that in mind, teaching becomes the act of restoration. This means that in special education supporting students to begin to see themselves fully that is, to see them beyond diagnoses, data points, or deficits begins with seeing us, and taking us from the deficit to a sense of being fully present. It means showing kids who they are, how they learn, and why it matters. Presence is nurtured when students are emotionally safe, when their strengths are recognized, when instruction is responsive, and when it is not limiting. My responsibility as a special education teacher is to provide classrooms where all children can gain the sense of agency to learn, to advocate for themselves, to experience success in a meaningful way. I teach to build confidence before competence and identity alongside skill. I create this by crafting teaching that is accessible, strengths-based, and affirming. Relationship-building, routine consistency, and individualized supports make students trust me and themselves. I encourage student self-awareness and self-regulation, encourage students to celebrate growth no matter how minor and allow time for reflections on what's happening with them. When students see progress and learn how they are learning (by reflecting on strategies), they do not begin to regard themselves as "behind," but as present, competent learners. Special education is also advocacy work. I am dedicated to educating students in knowing how to communicate their needs, establish goals, and have a role in the learning process. Students go from compliance to confidence when they are given power to speak for themselves. That change is revolutionary—not only intellectually, but emotionally and socially. A Brief Fairy Tale Once upon a time, there was a teacher who entered a classroom with invisible children inside of it. The children were all present in body, but concealed beneath fear, frustration, and self-doubt. The teacher didn’t carry a magic wand or a book of spell words; instead, she carried patience, belief, and an unshakable faith that all things are possible. She encouraged the children to find their voice, one at a time through encouragement, through changed paths, and gentle reminders that they belonged. When the children were able to recognize themselves, the classroom changed. The invisible became visible, and each child stood solid in his or her own presence. I smiled at the teacher, who knew that her magic was never hers alone, that magic was never done away with but kept living inside her as long as she stood there. That is why I am passionate about special education. It is teaching content, but it’s actually helping to bring students toward themselves, the most powerful lesson of all.

My life's journey is what made me choose higher education. Like Debra S. Jackson, I was for many years fully dedicated to work and caregiving, and this work required more effort than convenience. Even before I returned to a classroom, life demanded resilience from me. Ultimately, I realized that resilience alone wouldn't be sufficient: I needed rebirth, growth, and courage to be able to invest in myself again. My own background and past experiences have formed my values as a person. As a divorcee, I had to relearn how to restore independence to myself, with emotional and financial responsibilities, while being there for others. Taking care of my Type 2 diabetes diagnosis has taken discipline, intentionality, and resilience, and these have transferred very directly to my school and work life. Managing my health while I work and return to school reaffirms to me yet again that a person’s own development depends on deliberately tending to their body and mind. In addition, caring for an aging parent has taught me patience, empathy, and the importance of being an effective advocate, especially for vulnerable people facing change and transition. I put my own education goals on hold while doing what I had to do for many years. Like Debra, I pursued a challenging career, which was a sure path but also only gave me stability and no room to reinvent myself. I eventually had an epiphany. My experience meant it was time to begin higher education; I was determined. The idea that this was not going to mean starting fresh. My experience contributed to my future career and has strengthened my interest in community service. In my practice in education and in mentoring, I have seen how stress, physical and mental health issues, and life transitions can unsettle our potential when support is lacking. Through my education, I aspire to contribute to the creation of an area that is responsive, caring, and a place where empowering environments can thrive, especially for students, families, and educators who navigate adversity. Even as Debra S. Jackson’s education helped open doors to service in her community and church, I intend to use my education to give back in positive and lasting ways. At this age, my return to higher education has confirmed my confidence that learning can be transformative when undertaken by any person. My focus, resilience, and clarity in studies, all developed through lived experience is stronger at this point in my journey, and I am grateful for that. My education has given me the ability to lead with empathy, be an advocate, and give more strategic help in the field and in the community. The help I could receive from this scholarship would be instrumental as I pursue my studies while juggling health care, caregiving, teaching, and service. It is more than financial help; it is validation that there is an opportunity to get back. This commitment is one in which I intend to honor Debra S. Jackson’s legacy through education that empowers me personally, helps me build a meaningful impact in the community, and helps me change forever.

I am taking this future to the next level, using purpose and emotional wellness and the importance of a life well lived extending from an individual success story to help the lives by making it bigger. But most important for me, I am devoted to constructing, sustainably, a support system for students, educators and families who are often expected to be resilient without being resourced. It’s not just a building but a living system for support, access and advocacy around education and mental health visibility. As an educator, throughout my career, I’ve seen how emotional strain, trauma, and untreated mental health needs can quietly erode confidence, learning, and hope. They are too often urged to “push through” without the tools to do this. And I want to create spaces classrooms, a space of professional learning, community initiatives where emotional health is considered a part of the process, not an option. That means creating environments where people feel safe speaking their minds, seeking help when they need it, and growing up self-acceptedly and without shame. This future, personally, takes courage and commitment to create. Going back to school later in life is part of that architecture. Specifically, I am intentionally sharpening my knowledge, leadership experience, leadership capability and advocacy skills so I can have more of an impact on in support of some of the people I lead, I am learning to provide support to I am doing my best to help other people so I can help themselves better than I can. I have taken all these courses that I completed and each one solidify my craft in creating trauma-informed practices; I have learned to design trauma-informed practices, mentor with empathy, and lead with both compassion and accountability. This journey is not a matter of gaining a degree, but to be prepared to serve. The effect of what I am constructing starts with me. I am able to stand firm, and as I grow in confidence and clarity, I model perseverance and lifelong learning for IRL people to emulate. In my own community, the ripple effect of this work should be felt, from students in need of stability to educators who are finding themselves mired in burnout to families in need of guidance and understanding. Paying attention to mental and emotional health alongside academic success can break silences that are too often left unrecognised. In the end, I am shaping a future of when support is proactive, opposed to reactive, and when success is not just about the success and success alone but about your life. That dedication enables me to celebrate my experiences and to make a commitment to self and community. What I am building right now is a foundation for hope, resilience and continued impact one connection, one student, one episode at a time.

Returning in middle age to school itself certainly was not an impulsive choice: it was a brave one, one that had taken years, and it was a bold one. I shelved my aspirations while focusing on work, money, and everyone else. With most girls, I’ve been trained to be reliable, self-sacrificing, and strong, often to the detriment of my own dreams. More and more, I recognized that it was not for personal selfishness to indulge those dreams; it was for a higher calling that they were necessary. The courage to return to school came from realizing that I had still a long way to go my voice, my experience, and my leadership still required more growth. Being a woman over thirty-five, I was all too aware of the skepticism that follows if one starts over skepticism about age, energy, funds, and whether the investment would be “worth it.” But those fears were outweighed by a stronger belief: To stand still was more frightening than stepping forward. I knew that if I did not act, I was denying myself the future I still had the power to shape. I had also brought courage from working in the workplace. For countless hours over the years, I have helped students and my colleagues through adversity. At some point, I felt I had to try and give myself a dose of that same motivation. Going back to school was the mechanism by which my actions were brought back to the higher values I held deargrowth, perseverance, and self-belief. It’s a serious career change and a return to a sense of purpose. I'm not going back to school to start over, but to build forward. I'm using wisdom and insight I have absorbed from lived experience to make a difference. Balancing work with classes, job, and personal responsibilities has never been a piece of cake, but it has worked wonders that have made me sharper in discipline, confidence, and determination. I keep finding reasons to be brave and that with every problem or hurdle I run into, it reinforces a strong belief in me that courage does not mean the lack of fear, but being determined and not giving up despite it. Susie Green’s story strikes a chord with me because it shows what is possible when you put the determination you have above the limitations of a woman. Just like Susie I found myself pursuing education not because it was a path that suited me, but because I needed to. It remains part of her legacy to say that it is never too late to rewrite the future and that doggedness can change a person and a career. If nothing else, eventually, my courage lay in choosing that my aim still mattered and, even more importantly, that my future really deserved full dedication. Returning to school is one of the most difficult and personally most empowering choices I have made ever. It still shapes my future, too. This scholarship not only contributes significantly to furthering my educational development, it also reinforces my belief that women in later life who return to school bring unmatched strength, wisdom, and resolve into any space they enter.

Mental health advocacy is not something I strive to do as a goal, it is something I live day-to-day through relationships, my work, my purpose. As a teacher and a mentor, I have always been a trusted source of emotional support for students and colleagues facing their anxiety, stress, trauma, and self-doubt. A lot of times I am the safe adult or sounding board who a person will come to if they need support or when they are feeling overwhelmed and unseen. It was a very pivotal moment in my commitment when on one’s first day at class she began withdrawing, she was crying, and disengaged. The child was academically capable, but being emotionally strained at home was slowly breaking down. Instead of telling you how to respond with behavior, or how to perform, I listened. I observed that with consistent check-ins followed up by reassurance and helping the student gain coping mechanisms, their confidence returned over time. That was a very powerful experience for me, because I saw and it was powerful and had never happened to me in my life — the power of emotional support and how it can transform someone’s life because of this, that healing often happens through being heard. I have built social-emotional learning, mindfulness and self-regulation tactics into daily practice throughout my entire career. My colleagues have similarly relied upon me to support them during times of burnout or when they face personal difficulty. I provide assistance through mentorship, reflective conversation, and compassionate support. I want to expand this impact in my academic studies and future career intentionally. By acquiring advanced education in leadership, and student support, I am learning to represent the mental health responsive practices, trauma-informed environments and emotionally sustainable workplaces necessary to implement and advance this kind of work. My future career is to work with students, educators, and communities to foster positive mental health awareness and a systemic approach that includes emotional resilience. This scholarship would keep me focused and stable in my studies and enhance my relationship to emotionally support people in a more focused and longer lasting way. My intention is to be a compassionate presence ensuring that others feel they are valued, empowered, positive, and hopeful, even in their worst phase of life.

To be a first-generation college student has meant learning to walk forward without a map trusting my instincts, my work ethic, and my faith when no family blueprint exists to follow. Going to college meant figuring out applications, financial aid, academic expectations, and long-term planning completely on my own and with trial and error most of the time. It has been demanding but it has also been extremely resilient, and has reaffirmed my purpose. Balancing responsibility and aspiration has been one of the biggest challenges I face as a first-generation student. I have funded my education while earning a college degree, and I have sacrificed to keep it going. There were moments of doubt, periods of doubt, fatigue, financial difficulties, or lack of guidance made me feel discouraged so many times that I felt unable to keep going. However, every task just forced me to be strong. Each challenge helped solidify my determination. I developed the power to stand up for myself, find mentors, and see obstacles not as barriers but as a sign of my doing something brave and necessary. Perseverance then became my skill set, and learning became my foundation. My belief in education to change lives has been at the root of my journey so far: education is powerful and transformational not only for the individual but for the community as a whole. As a teacher, I have also witnessed the importance of access, encouragement, and representation firsthand. The quantitative approach and data-based solutions that I have so far been exposed to are the ones that interest me most about being able to analyze problems, measure impact, and propose equitable and effective solutions. It is the power of numbers that makes the most difference whether it is analyzing student data, examining instructional practices, or pursuing advanced academic research; it is one of the keys towards creating a better world. I desire academic advancement and the opportunity to continue leadership, research, and advocacy work in education. I hope to become a voice for students who, like myself, are learning to traverse systems for the first time students who are competent, driven, and deserving but frequently overlooked. I want to be a part of creating pipelines that are less scary, more accessible, especially for those who may be underserved or first-generation people and their families. This scholarship should not only serve as financial support, it would be an affirmation that my path is significant. I would find it relieving and able to devote my full time to work on my education and career more, with it being free from the long-term concern of money. Above all, it would put me closer to accomplishing my purpose: using education, research, and leadership to uplift others. Being a first-generation college student means carrying hope forward. This scholarship would ensure that hope continues to grow not just for me but for everyone who remains to join and serve as well.

Selflessness is not only about putting others before myself. It’s a lifestyle, a silent dedication to a life of purpose, compassion in leading and resilience in the face of old challenges. To me, selflessness isn’t calculated by big tasks, but by daily decisions motivated by love, faith, and the wish to bring others up. I have practiced selflessness as a mentor and a teacher. Most of my students have faced adversity that would be traumatizing for adults: poverty and neglect. I have spent countless hours tutoring students, providing emotional support, making home visits when parents cannot come to school. This student was having difficulty academically and emotionally at the time of a parent’s death. The student was a dropout risk. I started to see the student every day during lunch, allowing the student to have a safe place to talk and a gentle push to make steady progress. Over the years, the student moved up grade levels and began running other clubs and mentoring groups. My passion for advocacy prompted me to become a Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) for foster children. In that position, I am the voice for the children whose small and often unheard voices are buried in a complicated legal system. I sat next to the children in courtrooms, visited group homes, listened to teachers, social workers, and families, to make sure the child’s best interests were well served. One was for a teenage girl who had been in multiple homes and was in danger of aging out of the system. After advocating for her, she landed in a loving environment and thrived. As a type 2 diabetic fighter, there are days my body is weary, and my spirit is tested. But I get up every day with a mission to give back. My illness has made me strong, but most importantly, it has made me kind. I know what it’s like to fight silent battles, and I’ve turned my experience into a way to support other people with chronic conditions, especially young learners. I have shared publicly about managing health, about setting goals, and about defying stigma. To be selfless means to serve without applause, to give even when it hurts, and to stand when you don’t feel like it. Whether it is to mentor one child, feed one hungry family, or to work, I want my life to tell a story whispering with courage, compassion, and faith that changes the world.

When I was diagnosed with a chronic medical condition in 2011, I had no idea of the extent to which it would transform my perspective on the way I see and think about myself, my health, and the needs of others. Living with a chronic disease is not just a physical journey. It’s emotional, mental, and spiritual! It has shown me how to fight for myself, listen to my body, and make decisions that are best for me every single day. One of the best gifts I believe the condition bestowed upon me is empathy, the type of empathy that can only come from walking a difficult road yourself. Today, as a teacher, that same compassion informs the way I give to my students, especially those who have the experience of living with chronic autoimmune disease, such as diabetes. I know the fatigue, the finger pricks, the food monitoring, and the emotional burden of wondering, “Will I be all right today?” I also know how lonely it can seem when nobody around you actually gets it. That’s why I’ve made it my mission to be the teacher I needed back when I was first diagnosed: someone who looks beyond the condition and honors the whole person who is living with it. In my classroom, compassion is matched with structure. I establish an environment in which students suffering from diabetes, or any chronic disease, feel comfortable declaring their needs without worrying about judgment or embarrassment. I work with parents, school nurses, and schools to ensure that there is respect for individual care plans. I help create space for rest when it is necessary and show sympathy. Sometimes the thing a student really needs, even more than a lesson is support and someone who understands. Beyond logistics, I squeeze in lessons about health, nutrition, self-advocacy, and emotional wellness into my teaching whenever I can. So, I am very open about being a diabetic, not to burden my students, but to empower them. I want them to know that they are not alone and that this diagnosis does not define what they are capable of. Living with diabetes has made me more thoughtful, empathetic, and resolved to be a voice for children fighting hidden battles. I take that same resilience into my classroom every day as an example to students of how we leverage our experiences. I remind my students that strength is not about perfection; it is about showing up, being real, and doing your best, even when you’re feeling lousy. Having this opportunity will allow me to continue my education and reinforce my position as a leader and advocate in the school system. I want to create workshops and support systems in schools for students dealing with chronic health conditions. I also want to guide other educators in creating classrooms that honor and elevate students with special health needs. I think any challenge we experience can be turned into a bridge to assist someone else. It wasn’t just the story of how I learned to take care of myself with diabetes; it was the story of how I developed a heart for caring for others more deeply. As long as I’m in a classroom, I will continue to transform my experience into purpose one student, one lesson, and one act of compassion at a time.

When I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in 2011, I had no idea of the extent to which it would transform my perspective on the way I see and think about myself, my health, and the needs of others. Living with a chronic disease is not just a physical journey. It’s emotional, mental, and spiritual! It has shown me how to fight for myself, listen to my body, and make decisions that are best for me every single day. One of the best gifts I believe diabetes has bestowed upon me is empathy, the type of empathy that can only come from walking a difficult road yourself. Today, as a teacher, that same compassion informs the way I give to my students, especially those who have the experience of living with chronic autoimmune disease, such as diabetes. I know the fatigue, the finger pricks, the food monitoring, and the emotional burden of wondering, “Will I be all right today?” I also know how lonely it can seem when nobody around you actually gets it. That’s why I’ve made it my mission to be the teacher I needed back when I was first diagnosed: someone who looks beyond the condition and honors the whole person who is living with it. In my classroom, compassion is matched with structure. I establish an environment in which students suffering from diabetes, or any chronic disease, feel comfortable declaring their needs without worrying about judgment or embarrassment. I work with parents, school nurses, and schools to ensure that there is respect for individual care plans. I help create space for rest when it is necessary and show sympathy. Sometimes the thing a student really needs, even more than a lesson is support and someone who understands. Beyond logistics, I squeeze in lessons about health, nutrition, self-advocacy, and emotional wellness into my teaching whenever I can. So, I am very open about being a diabetic, not to burden my students, but to empower them. I want them to know that they are not alone and that this diagnosis does not define what they are capable of. Living with diabetes has made me more thoughtful, empathetic, and resolved to be a voice for children fighting hidden battles. I take that same resilience into my classroom every day as an example to students of how we leverage our experiences. I remind my students that strength is not about perfection; it is about showing up, being real, and doing your best, even when you’re feeling lousy. Having this opportunity will allow me to continue my education and reinforce my position as a leader and advocate in the school system. I want to create workshops and support systems in schools for students dealing with chronic health conditions. I also want to guide other educators in creating classrooms that honor and elevate students with special health needs. I think any challenge we experience can be turned into a bridge to assist someone else. It wasn’t just the story of how I learned to take care of myself with diabetes; it was the story of how I developed a heart for caring for others more deeply. As long as I’m in a classroom, I will continue to transform my experience into purpose one student, one lesson, and one act of compassion at a time.

I was born into a world where capable women bore heavy burdens with a quiet grace. I grew up surrounded by women who wore invisible capes. That meant keeping families afloat, showing up for everyone else, and seldom stopping to attend to their own well-being. My mother, grandmothers, and aunties were all strong, prayerful, and hardworking, but they taught me the unspoken message that women bear their pain in silence. That image stayed with me. I am a Black woman, an educator, a faith leader, and a mentor, and my life’s journey has been about transformation and about intention. I’ve walked through the deserts of grief, anxiety, and burnout, specifically divorce, diabetes diagnosis, and weight loss surgery/management. Those experiences taught me about the fountain of healing, self-worth, and the desperation of the need for spaces for women, particularly women of color, to breathe, to be seen, to be whole. While going through my personal struggles, I also found my calling: to give power to women and girls to live with clear vision, with purpose and conviction. My experiences/interests are at the crossroads of education, faith & emotional health. I do understand that when women and girls understand who they are and are given tools for their mental, emotional, and spiritual health, they blossom. This conviction compelled me to develop V.O.W. 9 Points of Impact, a transformational guide to assist women in re-identifying themselves and reframing the stories that were passed down to them. V.O.W. stands for Vision, Voice, Value, Options, Opportunities, Obsessions, Word, Worship, and Wisdom. These are cornerstones I teach as a speaker, mentor, and classroom leader. As an educator, I don’t just teach lessons, I build lives. I pour into young girls who are on the edge of understanding their worth, students who fight against the gales of emotional trauma, and women who are stifled by shame. Using it for good, I use it to speak life into other people, because I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. That means every conversation, every mentoring session, every workshop is how I tell them, “You matter. You are not alone.” My ambitions are audacious because my calling is larger than me. I am going for my ED.D. in Educational Leadership and aspire to be national spokeswoman for women's mental health, self-care, and leadership development. I want to write curriculum and train educators, faith leaders, and community advocates on valuing the whole woman, not just her performance, but her personhood. I turned my wounds into wisdom and my struggles into stepping stones. When I share my story, I see the light flicker in someone else’s eyes. This scholarship would not only help further my academic pursuit, but it would also amplify my mission. I am not pinned down by the pursuit of a degree. I am building a legacy of healing, leadership, and promise. I am the woman I prayed, pleaded, and ultimately is becoming and this is only just beginning!

I wish to use my experiences to address the challenges that women face, including issues of social and emotional health. Too often, women are burdened with the emotional and mental weight of families, workplaces, and communities without having safe spaces to pour into themselves. I have seen the devastating emotional and physical consequences that burnout, low self-worth, unhealed trauma, and silent suffering can have on women of all ages. It was not only what I saw but how I lived that fueled my passion and turned my passion into a purpose. As a woman, an educator, a mentor, a faith-based leader, it is my purpose to speak up for women who feel unseen and unheard. I just think that real transformation comes when women are empowered to take care of their minds, bodies, and spirits as a whole. That conviction became the backbone of my transformational guide , V.O.W. 9 Points of Impact: Vision, Voice, Value, Options, Opportunities, Obsessions, Word, Worship, and Wisdom. These are the 9 pillars of healing and transformation that every woman should have access to. Through V.O.W., I facilitate workshops and seminars and host empowerment circles, asking women to identify themselves beyond their description as a role. Whether I’m talking to a room full of little girls who are learning their value or mentoring students in my classroom or leading spiritual wellness sessions in churches, my focus is mental clarity, emotional regulation, and spiritual self-care. I want to help women see that their stories count and that putting themselves first is not a luxury but a necessity. I have come to view women’s health as the fabric of emotional resilience, mental strength, and spiritual wholeness, not merely the absence of disease. I am in the process of receiving more training in this area and my goal is to develop V.O.W. into a comprehensive wellness solution that offers curriculum-based mental health programs, online self-care retreats, and culturally specific resources to women who are underserved. I see partnering with schools, churches, and community-based organizations to establish safe havens where girls and women can grow, heal, and lead. My work is grounded in the belief that when a woman learns a voice and learns to care for herself without apology, she breaks cycles. She is leading differently, loving herself more deeply, and showing strength to those who will come behind. It isn’t just a career path but a calling for me. With this scholarship, I will gain the resources, education, and mentorship to expand the reach of V.O.W. and to be a disrupting force in the women’s health space. I am shadowing with my life, my voice, and my small bit of walking wounded, toward the sacred wholeness of women. When women are whole, the world will be healed.

My faith has been my bedrock throughout my life and guides my approach to the office. It's what I look to, to direct my path, the light in the darkness and the thing that drives me to inspire others. It is based on service, empathy, and foresight. I try to manage with empathy, encouragement, and a belief in everyone’s divine purpose and path. The most challenging time that I ever stood in faith is when I recently led/spoke at a women’s empowerment conference. While addressing a room full of women, many of them seemingly weighed down by silent self-doubt, trauma, and spiritual dis-ease. I sensed the presence of God instructing me to speak not from my notes, but from my very heart. I shared my testimony, my challenges, victories, and the power that comes from prayer. I told them they’re visible, loved, and chosen. A few women in tears approached me after the session to thank me for giving them hope and permission to dream again. In that instant, I was reminded that leadership is not always about having the answers. It’s about being willing to show up, truthfully and vulnerably. My guidance in overseeing girls empowerment groups and my students in the classroom has also been through my faith. I do what I can to breathe life into young girls who are feeling invisible or unheard. I remind them that their value is not determined by society, their past, or their bad choices but by the greatness inside them. I deliberately serve as a mentor to those students in my classroom who need that little extra push, whether it is helping them gain confidence in their academic skills or helping them know they are supported in their personal life. I don't just teach them academically but how to discover themselves and have confidence, found in faith, and in love. One of the ways I lead is by means of my V.O.W. 9 Points of Impact - a faith-based methodology I’ve created: 1. Vision – Assisting others in seeing their future with direction. 2. Voice - Giving voice to the voiceless to speak up boldly, authentically. 3. Value - Learning about self-worth and respect for others. 4. Options-Decisions which create potential growth. 5. Opportunities-Providing entry and inviting others to step in. 6. Obsessions-Finding and pursuing healthy passions that serve your purpose. 7. Word-Grounding leadership in scripture and truth. 8. Worship-Chasing Pleasing – God with everything. 9. Wisdom- Making choices based on spiritual discernment. These are principles that don’t just guide the way I lead; they’ve shaped the way I live. As I move forward, I envision myself continuing to use my influence for good, whether in teaching, ministry, or leadership training. I aspire to create the platforms that support the life, body, and spirit of others, particularly women and young people who have forgotten their own power. The V.O.W. 9 Points of Impact will be included in leadership training courses for instructors, mentors, and religious groups. Faith does not simply touch the way I lead; it is the way I lead. It is why I get up when life is trying to take me down, why I speak life into others, and why I believe that my call is greater than any barrier I face. Using faith as my compass, I will continue to lead, lift, and help others become the leaders they were born to be.

There came a time in my life when I looked in the mirror and everything had to change. I didn’t mean just my reflection, but how I felt and who I was inside. I was overwhelmed. Physically, I was tired. Emotionally, I was drained. Mentally, the weight of shame, doubt, and my secret health battle was weighing me down. Type 2 diabetes and the daily grind of being a full-time teacher, graduate student, caregiver, and woman trying to keep it all together was catching up with me. I knew that if I was going to live a full life and follow my dreams, I would need to place my health first. I took the leap of faith and made the life-altering decision to have weight loss surgery. This decision wasn’t made lightly. It required a lot of looking inward and a lot of courage to admit that what I needed was help, real, consistent help. I had fought with my weight for a long time. I’d always been big for my height, and my size made me feel awkward and uncomfortable. I had been conditioned by society and plagued with personal insecurities that made it difficult to fathom feeling at ease in my own skin. I reached a tipping point: I was ready for something different. I wanted to live, not merely exist. Bariatric surgery was not a panacea, it was a start. It was a total mind-shift. I had to learn to love and respect my body in all of its incarnations, to listen to what it needed. I became more intentional about managing my diabetes. As I worked with my medical team, developed new nutrition habits, and added some physical activity, I started to feel like I was making some progress and taking control of my health and my life. What I have learned from this experience is priceless: Real transformation begins inside. Health is not a number on the scale, but it’s mental clarity, emotional balance, and the confidence of believing you’re worthy of change. I discovered that self-care is not selfish, it’s survival. It’s the base upon which everything I want to be in life is built, including my work as an educator, a student, and a human being. This health journey has influenced how I’ve viewed grad school, work, and life at large. As a full-time teacher, I am so much more energetic and present in my classroom. I can also model strength, resilience, and authenticity for my students. As a graduate student, I’ve learned how to carve out time to rest, contemplate, and re-energize so I can continue to deliver my best. In my personal life, I am more aware of boundaries, carving out space for mental wellness practices like prayer, journaling, and walking outside. Since making my health a priority, I have learned to give myself permission to thrive, to heal, to be proud of my progress. It was a reminder that my dreams are worth fighting for, and so am I. It helped me find a version of myself that I had locked away under piles of stress, fear, and self-doubt. Today, when I peer in the mirror, I see a woman with work yet to do, but I sense strength because I know my purpose. It’s me who’s going to finish this degree, transform lives in the classroom, and live in victory every day.

LeBron James means more than basketball to me. He is inspiration, greatness, and a witness of what happens when talent meets purpose. One man can never be twice the same. The guts and humility it takes to do what he’s done is why I’m a fan. The GOAT, LeBron James, is also one of the great humanitarians in sports history. On the court, LeBron has outperformed expectations. His journey from Akron, Ohio, high school phenomenon to the N.B.A.’s all-time leading scorer has been nothing short of epic. His entire multi-positional role-playing, scoring, passing, rebounding has created a basketball I.Q. and physical dominance no other basketball player in the history of the game has ever combined this way. He has won championships with three teams, pushed underdog sides to the finals, and then come through when the pressure was at its highest. But why he’s No. 1 is not about what he does in the game, it’s a question of what influence he wields after the buzzer and the cameras shut off. LeBron James never turned his back on his hometown. He was brought up in poverty by a single mother and knows what it means to be an at-risk student. He has contributed millions to programs benefiting underprivileged students and their families through his foundation, the LeBron James Family Foundation. His most powerful contribution? The I PROMISE School, which stands in his hometown of Akron. The school is not just a building; it is a beacon of hope. That is, not only are they getting a free public school education, free meals, free uniforms, free transportation, and even a pantry for families in need, but they’re also being connected with social resources they might never even know to ask for. Beyond that, it provides the students with mental health resources and an opportunity to spin their own tale. LeBron didn’t just build a school; he built second chances. And that is why he is a true role model. LeBron is bigger than stats and rings. He has used his fame to be a voice for justice, a champion of education, and an inspiration for millions of young people. He shows us that greatness is not what you have; it’s what you give; that leadership is not about lording it over people, it’s about lifting them up; and that a true legacy is not the wealth you leave for the next generation, but the way you live your life in the service of others, giving and caring and serving. LeBron James is a guy I’m a big fan of, because he’s excellent with a purpose. He demonstrates to you that you can emerge from nowhere yet give the world everything. His story motivates me that despite the difficult secular condition, to keep fighting for my dreams, to get what I want, and one day be able to help others as I was helped. To me, he’s not only the greatest of all time in basketball, he’s the greatest of all time in life.

I am deserving of the dreams I chase because every step of the way, (literally every stumble, every small victory, every tear shed in the quiet) has made me into someone who does not give up. I don't dream from places of privilege, or ease as some others do; my dreams are from places of purpose, pain, persistence, and a hope that refuses to relent, that my story can be transformed, not only for me, but for others still walking the same journey where I once was. I’ve got all I can handle with being a 54-year-old doctoral student who balances full-time work, part-time caregiving for an aging parent, yet my heart is full. I’ve felt that drained, spread-thin exhaustion and have known that bittersweet heartbreak of life throwing curveballs that you can’t help but let knock you a little off-kilter. From the pain of divorce to the everyday management of diabetes to the fight for self-care with high-stakes stress, I have had it in me to give up. But I didn’t. I know my dreams are not only about personal success, but they are about answering a calling. I also want to be an educational leader, a classroom management coach, and a professional developer. I want to be a place for educators to come and be filled so that they can give their best to students. I want to be part of the effort to change struggling classrooms into nurturing places where every child feels seen, heard, and able. I want to walk into schools especially those in the “at-risk” category and remind teachers that their work means something and that they are supported as well. I deserve to dream these dreams because I have already started to walk them out. Whether it be through mentoring new teachers, assisting foster youth through community service, or heading up women’s empowerment groups at my church, I have always worked to inspire others. I’ve been the advocate for the voiceless, the soft encourager for the weary, and the fierce advocate for equity in education. These are not far away dreams. I am living on the edges of them now, and just tapping into the fullness of what I have come here to become. What propels my dreams is something beyond ambition, it is a transcendence of ambition that makes my dreams dependent upon a sense of responsibility. I think that I was sent tests so that I could testify. I value myself not because I am perfect but because I am persistent. Because I figure that on those days when the whisper of doubt blows louder than my faith, I'm still movin’. That stubbornness, that ability to keep moving forward, no matter how rough the path, is precisely why I deserve the dreams I’ve got. A scholarship would not only alleviate some financial burden, but it would also validate that someone else is recognizing value in my journey and finding belief in my ability to make an impact. It would make way for me to be able to 100% concentrate and graduate with my doctoral degree, to step even more boldly into the purpose I was born into. It’s not for plaques and awards or accolades, it’s for my purpose and what I want to leave here. I am the dream I am reaching because my dreams are born in love, are nourished by faith and grow with the intent to support and encourage. My story may be full of struggles, but it is also full of grace, strength and courage to rise again. That makes me more than enough!

Intimate partner violence (IPV) is an invisible epidemic. It marks people's lives in ways that cannot be seen. It also disturbs the essence of communities and families everywhere. I wholeheartedly believe that one of the most effective means of interrupting this cycle is education. As a woman, educator, and survivor who has experienced this firsthand, I’ve also gone deep into myself to find the link between self-worth, self-confidence, and people’s choices in relationships. I believe that by drawing upon my own journey, as well as gaining knowledge that is both academic and experiential, I can act as a voice and vessel of healing for all genders. Education doesn't just occur in books, it occurs with conversation, in safe places, and is accompanied by people who believe they are worthy of love. It is one big circle. People, especially women, who are taught from a very early age to value themselves; who are taught their rights; and who are encouraged to listen and detect feedback from within, are much less likely later on to fall into toxic and abusive relationships. Silence, shame, and dependency which are the very environments in which IPV thrives will cease. In classrooms and communities, self-awareness, critical thinking, and emotional literacy are nurtured. These are seeds of freedom. I plan to use my doctoral degree to create programs that fill all genders with pride. Such can be held in schools, churches, and community centers across the country. Changes need to be made in how educational institutions help all understand their place. We should be developing workshops that do more than just teach subjects like math or science: life skills such as conflict resolution, self-advocacy, financial literacy, boundary setting, and emotional health. I want to be that light for someone else. In my own life, I have suffered emotional abuse and unhealthy relationships. At that time, I lacked self-confidence and understanding to see what was really happening. At that time, I didn't know that I should be regarded as someone who deserves better. Only after I became an adult learner was able to get back to school did I really find myself and realize my own value. Through prayer, counseling, education, spiritual healing, and hard work, I am stronger now. I feel it is God's will that others rise up as well! My classroom is not just an academic environment; it is a refuge for students who find themselves seen, heard, and appreciated because they are here. I believe in educating above and beyond any curriculum in life, giving young people's minds full creativity and soul-stirring. My students know how to speak out loud without fear, dream big dreams, and care for themselves so fiercely that it is impossible to shake them. I lead young people's groups and women's worship services in my community and church, focusing on spiritual growth, emotional healing, and good relationships. There, we women are provided with a great deal of shouldering; these are the places where transformation occurs, where we learn to break free from generations of tradition into a brighter future. I want to complete my doctoral studies and extend my reach with the scholarship. This degree would let me bring holistic education to needy communities by building networks among educators, congregations, and mental-health professionals. I believe that education can give all people the tools not just to survive, but rather to live well. By mixing scholarly knowledge with lived experience, I am dedicated to acting as a change-maker. Taking education as the vehicle, we together can demolish and diminish the cruelty of IPT, and embrace a new normal.

Graduate school is tough emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. It is an intense field of work where success comes at a high price. There are strict deadlines to meet with a heavy workload on top of that. These pressures can lead one to an abyss of stress and insecurity. Every single one of these crises adds to the burdens that life dumps on my shoulders. As the stresses and strains pile up, there are moments when I wonder, Can I go on? Just then, the shock has been compounded by even heavier blows: I’m divorced with diabetes and a dependent relative to care for. Moments of weakness come creeping in at unguarded times when, already exhausted by anxiety, a good dose of paralysis added overtop briefly makes me question everything I am trying to do. I feel worn out. Mental exhaustion has sometimes made it difficult even to finish the simplest tasks. There have been times when, due not to a lack of commitment or capability but rather to the persistent, draining emotional burden of carrying everything on one's back at once, I have performed poorly in my studies. But my faithfulness isn't defined by the pain of falling. My faithfulness is in the steps I take to stand again. One of the most profound decisions I have made in my own life is to understand the importance of mental health. It has not been easy, and it was a decision that did not come overnight. Through reflection, faith, and intentional actions, one step at a time, I started to place as much importance on my health (both mental/emotional and physical). Spiritual meditation and prayer are some of the most profound tools I've employed on my journey to heal. Each morning before I pick up a book, I take time to still my own body, mind, and heart. I close my eyes in quietness or let my gaze wander, contemplating scripture and speaking my heart's desires in prayer. My spiritual life is like an anchor. Aromatherapy has also been incorporated into my daily routine. Scents like lavender, eucalyptus, and vanilla help to create an atmosphere of calm. Whenever stress starts creeping up, a few drops of essential oil and a quiet moment with a warm cup of tea gently coaxes me back to my center. Equally as crucial is the practice of being silent. Training oneself to live detachably from this continual stream of noise, technology, and career pressures is essential. I take time consciously to sit still and not look at screens, not have any need for outputs or to perform. The meaning of self-care in graduate school has taken on a whole new dimension. It isn't just bubble baths and journaling like that anymore (though those are good things to do). It's learning to set limits with your time and energy. So, I eat healthier food than before, hydrate myself better each day, make sure I rest properly, and enjoy the wandering walks of a refreshed mind. Especially today, mental health is not some kind of chic or luxury, but something quite imperative. What I have learned is that an empty vessel simply cannot sustain pouring. Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, the healthier I am, the more focused, productive, and impactful I become in front of my academic work and in helping my community. Vulnerability, as far as I am concerned, is the bridge and inspiration necessary for healing. Receiving this scholarship would ease the financial burden. It would enable me to keep focusing on my mental health while aiming for academic excellence.

My parents introduced me to “church going” at an early age. They sowed the seeds into my life about knowing God and baptism. It wasn’t until my early 20’s while in college that I became a born-again Christian. As a believer of Jesus Christ, I truly know about the power of prayer and faith. I have decided to go back to graduate school to pursue a doctoral degree. This is a God given vision that is going to require me to seek assist from many different resources. This experience will challenge me in more ways than one, test my endurance, dedication, and solidify my faith. I’m embarking on this academic journey from a place of abiding faith and prayer that has had to sustain me through episodes of doubt, exhaustion, and fear. Faith and prayer have not just been a strength but a shining beacon leading me to believe in the purpose of my journey and that I can triumph despite the odds. For an older student juggling work, family responsibilities, and coursework, it can all feel like too much. I often feel the weight of so many obligations. But in those moments of silent prayer, whether at the beginning of a long day, late at night over a study session, or during a personal crisis, I’ve found peace. To this day, spiritual meditation and prayer are some of the most profound tools I've employed on my journey. Each morning before I pick up a book, I take time to still my own body, mind, and heart. I close my eyes in quietness or let my gaze wander, contemplating scripture and speaking my heart's desires in prayer. These are moments in my day when I find refuge. My fears are pushed back, peace is embraced, and clarity received. My spiritual life is like an anchor. It reminds me that I am not alone on this journey and that grace meets me even during the challenging times. I find the most comfort in prayer, remembering I cannot do this on my own and, with God, all things are possible. Learning is inherently spiritual, especially when it is grounded in service to others. My aspirations related to a doctoral degree are that they pertain to my yearning to empower the marginalized, to be a voice to the voiceless, and to make the world of teaching I love so dearly a better place. It’s faith that has kept this vision grounded. I can think of countless evenings when the deadlines were drawing near, and my energy was sapped away. Although difficult, I would stop, close my eyes, and pray for focus, for strength, and for guidance. I often found that answers came more clearly after prayer, not only in my mind but also in my heart. Faith is my courage to keep pushing, even though logically, I should have stopped. Through prayer and scripture, my holy times of quiet have yielded the calm I require to keep all the balls in the air: school, family, life’s unwelcome curveballs. They’ve helped me remain focused, grounded, and hopeful. Obviously, pursuing an Ed.D. as a mature student isn't just an academic thing, it is a journey of self-improvement, renewal, and calling. It’s my faith that has helped me overcome fear, pray my way through pain, and fight those tribulations. It has made me realize that age and situation do not define me; rather, my calling and my commitment define me. I have faith and prayer as my compass, and I stand firmly on Romans 8:38 knowing that nothing will ever separate me from the love of Jesus Christ. As a future Doctor of Education, my mission is to uplift underserved communities through educational leadership, culturally responsive practices, create and lead programs that address opportunity gaps in education for students of color, and those who are low-income. One of my main goals is to providing leadership opportunities for women in education that will help develop their professional growth including administrative and policy making opportunities. I have dedicated my life to teaching. The Masters & Ed.S specialist degrees that I possess have been instrumental in having a stellar teaching career so far. My current pursuit of a doctoral degree in education directly aligns with my career goals of becoming a stronger leader, consultant, and advocate in education. A Doctor of Education degree will equip me to design more impactful lessons, mentor future educators, and create innovative strategies that will close achievement gaps. I will be fortunate to further create and expand an educational consulting business that empowers schools, educators, and families through professional development, culturally responsive teaching strategies, and motivational programs. My voice isn't merely heard among the crowds at conferences and community forums, however, nor am I speaking just for applause. I will also facilitate workshops; inspire future teachers, particularly women of color; and lobby for fairer educational policies that serve each child, regardless of zip code. My doctorate will open opportunities for my own growth and for others to follow in my footsteps. Community outreach is the lifeline of my work. I’ll organize events that bring schools and parents together and participate in family literacy nights. In America’s churches, community centers, and living rooms, education keeps flowing. Through these ventures, I’ll be able to be a positive influence on the very neighborhoods that once influenced me. Looking ahead, my goals also include pursuing advanced leadership roles in education. More than anything, I want my journey to be a testimony; that even in the face of divorce, discouragement, and doubt, purpose can prevail. As I continue walking this academic path, I remain committed to learning, leading, and lifting others along the way. I’ll be able to be a positive influence on the very neighborhoods that once influenced me. I am a mature adult learner and have had the courage to go back to school. Not just for myself, but for all those people who had to put their dreams on hold due to life's unexpected storms. The scholarship means more than just financial help. It acknowledges my strength, development, and my strong belief that it is never too late to start over. With your backing, I can pursue my doctorate in education and use my story as encouragement for others that feel they're too old. I've lived courage. Now I want to grow, and this is why I believe that I should be awarded this scholarship. As a mature adult college student who has been through divorce, type 2 diabetes and weight management, and started over more than once, I realized how important it is to have perseverance. I was born to teach. Financial support will enable me to concentrate more fully on my studies. As an educator, I devote every bit of my life to reigniting that light in every child I meet.

As a believer of Jesus Christ, I truly know about the power of prayer and faith. I have decided to go back to graduate school to pursue a doctoral degree. This is a God given vision that is going to require me to seek assist from many different resources. This experience will challenge me in more ways than one, test my endurance and dedication, and solidified my faith. I’m embarking on this academic journey from a place of abiding faith and prayer that has had to sustain me through episodes of doubt, exhaustion, and fear. Faith and prayer have not just been a strength but a shining beacon leading me to believe in the purpose of my journey and that I can triumph despite the odds. For an older student juggling work, family responsibilities, and coursework, it can all feel like too much. I often feel the weight of so many obligations. But in those moments of silent prayer, whether at the beginning of a long day, late at night over a study session, or during a personal crisis, I’ve found peace. To this day, spiritual meditation and prayer are some of the most profound tools I've employed on my journey. Each morning before I pick up a book, I take time to still my own body, mind, and heart. I close my eyes in quietness or let my gaze wander, contemplating scripture and speaking my heart's desires in prayer. These are moments in my day when I find refuge. My fears are pushed back, peace is embraced, and clarity received. My spiritual life is like an anchor. It reminds me that I am not alone on this journey and that grace meets me even during the challenging times. I find the most comfort in prayer, remembering I cannot do this on my own and, with God, all things are possible. Learning is inherently spiritual, especially when it is grounded in service to others. My aspirations related to a doctoral degree are that they pertain to my yearning to empower the marginalized, to be a voice to the voiceless, and to make the world of teaching I love so dearly a better place. It’s faith that has kept this vision grounded. I can think of countless evenings when the deadlines were drawing near, and my energy was sapped away. Although difficult, I would stop, close my eyes, and pray for focus, for strength, and for guidance. I often found that answers came more clearly after prayer, not only in my mind but also in my heart. Faith is my courage to keep pushing, even though logically, I should have stopped. Through prayer and scripture, my holy times of quiet have yielded the calm I require to keep all the balls in the air: school, family, life’s unwelcome curveballs. They’ve helped me remain focused, grounded, and hopeful. Obviously, pursuing an Ed.D. as a mature student isn't just an academic thing, it is a journey of self-improvement, renewal, and calling. It’s my faith that has helped me overcome fear, pray my way through pain, and fight those tribulations. It has made me realize that age and situation do not define me; rather, my calling and my commitment define me. I have faith and prayer as my compass, and I stand firmly on Romans 8:38 knowing that nothing will ever separate me from the love of Jesus Christ. As a future Doctor of Education, my mission is to uplift underserved communities through educational leadership, culturally responsive practices, create and lead programs that address opportunity gaps in education for students of color, and those who are low-income. One of my main goals is to providing leadership opportunities for women in education that will help develop their professional growth including administrative and policy making opportunities. I have dedicated my life to teaching. The Masters & Ed.S specialist degrees that I possess have been instrumental in having a stellar teaching career so far. My current pursuit of a doctoral degree in education directly aligns with my career goals of becoming a stronger leader, consultant, and advocate in education. A Doctor of Education degree will equip me to design more impactful lessons, mentor future educators, and create innovative strategies that will close achievement gaps. I will be fortunate to further create and expand an educational consulting business that empowers schools, educators, and families through professional development, culturally responsive teaching strategies, and motivational programs. My voice isn't merely heard among the crowds at conferences and community forums, however, nor am I speaking just for applause. I will also facilitate workshops; inspire future teachers, particularly women of color; and lobby for fairer educational policies that serve each child, regardless of zip code. My doctorate will open opportunities for my own growth and for others to follow in my footsteps. Community outreach is the lifeline of my work. I’ll organize events that bring schools and parents together and participate in family literacy nights. In America’s churches, community centers, and living rooms, education keeps flowing. Through these ventures, I’ll be able to be a positive influence on the very neighborhoods that once influenced me. Looking ahead, my goals also include pursuing advanced leadership roles in education. More than anything, I want my journey to be a testimony; that even in the face of divorce, discouragement, and doubt, purpose can prevail. As I continue walking this academic path, I remain committed to learning, leading, and lifting others along the way. I’ll be able to be a positive influence on the very neighborhoods that once influenced me. I am a mature adult learner and have had the courage to go back to school. Not just for myself, but for all those people who had to put their dreams on hold due to life's unexpected storms. The scholarship means more than just financial help. It acknowledges my strength, development, and my strong belief that it is never too late to start over. With your backing, I can pursue my doctorate in education and use my story as encouragement for others that feel they're too old. I've lived courage. Now I want to grow, and this is why I believe that I should be awarded this scholarship. As a mature adult college student who has been through divorce, type 2 diabetes and weight management, and started over more than once, I realized how important it is to have perseverance. I was born to teach. Financial support will enable me to concentrate more fully on my studies. As an educator, I devote every bit of my life to reigniting that light in every child I meet.

I am a first generation elementary education major graduate. Teaching is my gift. I sleep, eat, and dream about teaching. It’s my life!Higher education has been a generational investment not only for me, but for my niece who is a FAMU graduate. My family and I are currently helping her to groom her 5 year old twin daughters to pursue higher education. Looking ahead, my goals include pursuing advanced leadership roles in education, mentoring the next generation of teachers, and expanding my work in educational consulting to help schools and communities implement empowering, equity-driven programs. More than anything, I want my journey to be a testimony—that even in the face of divorce, discouragement, and doubt, purpose can prevail. As I continue walking this academic path, I remain committed to learning, leading, and lifting others along the way. With additional education, I will be fortunate to further expand my educational consulting business that empowers schools, educators, and families through professional development, culturally responsive teaching strategies, and motivational programs. I will also facilitate workshops; inspire future teachers, particularly women of color; and lobby for fairer educational policies that serve each child, regardless of zip code. My doctorate will open opportunities for my own growth and for others to follow in my footsteps. Community outreach is the lifeline of my work. I’ll organize events that bring schools and parents together and participate in family literacy nights. Through these ventures, I’ll be able to be a positive influence on the very neighborhoods that once influenced me.  I am a mature adult learner and have had the courage to go back to school. Not just for myself, but for all those people who had to put their dreams on hold due to life's unexpected storms. The scholarship means more than just financial help. It acknowledges my strength, development, and my strong belief that it is never too late to start over. With your backing, I can pursue my doctorate in education and use my story as encouragement for others that feel they're too old. I've lived courage. Now I want to grow, and this is why I believe that I should be awarded this scholarship. As an adult college student who has been through divorce, type 2 diabetes and weight management, and started over more than once, I realized how important it is to have perseverance. I was born to teach. Financial support will enable me to concentrate more fully on my studies. As an educator, I devote every bit of my life to reigniting that light in every child I meet. When students discover their existence, they not only alter their own futures, they can change the entire world.

The first time I taught in my own classroom, something deep inside me awoke. In its grandest form, I think the purpose of teaching is to arouse the presence of life within every student. Presence is not just physical existence, it’s also an awareness of one’s worth, rights fulfill, identity, and self. Students with special needs are constantly grasping for and seeking this sense of presence. Often times, low expectations make students feel a burning embarrassment as internalized self-doubt mutes their voice. As I transition from the regular classroom teacher to a future special education teacher, I am committed to leading these students into their own presence, making them realize their life is indeed there; inseparable from theirs. My vision is that I shall make fresh contributions to human society. For a decade, my passion for special education comes from personal encounters and professional experiences. Early in life, I saw how educational systems often neglect those children who learn differently. It is my fond hope that I can be of service to these children, who will someday enter into all walks of life. They are not just numbers or classifications; they're human beings filled with strength and hope. I don't want to be a teacher who only meets their academic needs. I also want students to know that I am here for them and put my students at ease in their own skin. Hopefully, this will guide them to be their own person. For special education, it means creating a school in which students are not objects of pity, neglect, or underestimation. Instead, they are honored and challenged; they are looked at deeply. To begin, we must affirm identity. Many students with special needs have internalized messages that society directs at them: you have limitations; you are broken. As their teacher, I must will contradict these messages with careful, purposeful confirmations. My goal is to build an atmosphere where every child feels appreciated and seen. Then, students will be taught to take ownership of their work or for themselves. This is why I want my students to learn to speak up for themselves and put their own wants and needs first in life. We do this in several ways: by using individual learning programs for every student, setting goals and activities that focus on social-emotional learning; and equipping students with all of the necessary tools for success. I'll teach them that school is not just a place to be taught but where there are rewards for taking charge of your own learning too. I also believe in the power of connection and community. A student feels the most present when they belong. Many handicapped children, as a result of physical distance in classrooms or because they have differences in their mode of communication, feel socially isolated. It is my commitment to build a classroom in which all are included, meaning that cooperation, respect and empathy are the minimal norms. Through cooperative learning, peer mentoring and universal design for learning, every child will get access as well as contribute to group activities. By living out acceptance and teaching social-emotional skills, I will create an environment where differences are embraced and "every child knows they are significant." In the end, kids need to feel that adults care about them and are there helping to guide their journey rather than just educating as if they were inanimate objects. By working hand in hand with their parents, closely listening to them, and sharing their goals, I will offer a true partnership of equals between myself and my students. Needs will be communicated to them openly; in return, their participation in the learning process is encouraged through meetings with home visits. In this way, not only can I provide superior support for students, but at least as importantly, I will be reinforcing families as crucial partners in the development of their child. Special education is a constantly changing field. I am committed to staying current by learning the best research, practice, and policy thinking regarding learning disabilities. I will take advantage of opportunities for further training in behavioral intervention, inclusive curriculum design, and how to teach from a trauma-informed perspective. I also hope to effect change beyond my own classroom, working for funds that are fairly distributed throughout our educational system; policies which promote inclusion rather than exclusion of children with disabilities or other factors such as race and gender discrimination; an increase in general awareness on both the rights of all individuals in society but especially their needs by individuals with any disability at all. My advocacy is not just professional, but personal as well; it springs from love, passion for justice, and an unshakeable belief in the necessity of every child to grow and develop his or her gifts. My goal, then, is to help students discover their own voice, purpose, and presence. This is a life journey, not an event; I may not always be able to see the end result, but sown seeds of trust and dignity will generate hope in future generations. Every little victory like each time a child speaks up, masters a new skill, or learns to smile with pride brings a celebration. These are the moments when presence comes alive. I am pursuing this education to fulfill my mission. As an adult college student who has been through divorce, type 2 diabetes and weight management, and start over more than once, I realized how important it is to have perseverance. Pursuing a degree in special education sends the message that it is not just a career move for me, but it is something I was born into. Financial support will enable me to concentrate more fully on my studies, complete my certification, and take part in school practice or job-related training. As a special education teacher, I will devote every bit of my life to reigniting that light in every child I meet. When students discover their existence, they not only alter their own futures, they can change the entire world. Optional Fairy Tale story: To a certain degree, I feel like I am fulfilling or living out my fairy tale. In 2010, I authored a children’s book titled, Mika Dika Foster Kid. I created this book with the main character that is a foster kid with special needs. She is the heroine in the story. My goals is to create a series that will follow the path of this foster kid.

Hope is not something I could be born grasping. I discovered it gradually, forged through the individuals whom I served and the communities to which I belonged. Since then, my sense of the future I hope for has been informed and reformed by acts of compassion, service, and genuine connection with the least noticed among us. One of the most transformative stages in this journey occurred when I became involved through volunteering in the foster care movement. There, I met children whose lives had been shattered by trauma, neglect, and instability. I was their voice in places where they were largely unseen in court, at meetings, by just dropping by. For others, I was the only stable adult in their lives at the time. In those moments, I learned that hope is not just a feeling, it is an action. It’s listening when nobody else is. It is believing in a child who has been told they don’t matter. In the courage and quiet courage of those children, I learned about the nature of fighting for a future that would rise above the pain of the past. At the same time, I volunteered through my church, which had a brother/sister relationship with a local “at-risk” school. I never thought that label was fair. What I saw instead were children brimming with curiosity and unrealized potential. Many of them were poor, raised by single parents or born into generational struggle. But in every tutoring session, every post-school meal and every conversation, I saw more than that, possibility. I discovered that when a child is enveloped by a community of folks who care, they start to soar. It was that experience that made me want to teach in one of those at-risk schools. It’s been the most difficult and also the most rewarding work I’ve done. My students bear loads much too heavy for their little shoulders. Some have been homeless, subjected to violence or neglect, yet they show up, laugh, learn, and hope. My classroom morphed from being all book learning to a sanctuary, a place to launch from, a place for students to know they were safe and loved. In all of those experiences, foster care advocacy, church-based community work, and teaching one simple truth stands out: connection is the force that keeps us alive. I’ve seen how kindness can help restore dignity, and how small gestures can have a monumental effect. Joining these communities has influenced not only my understanding of the future, but also my purpose. I believe in the transformative power of community, healing, lifting, and changing. I have seen what happens when we join arms, lift our voices and lean into love. I do believe that with each one that we reach, the future becomes brighter.

Being in the classroom has really opened my eyes to the basic needs that most students are lacking. The ideal class that I would create for students would be how to handle stress, money properly, solve math puzzles, analyze literature, manage their emotions, build healthy self-respecting relationships, cook a meal, prepare for an interview. I would call it “Your Life, Your Way. The class would be taught every spring and fall. From kindergarten through 12th grade, students would be taught lessons aligned to their age, how to live, tackling practical abilities that every stage of life calls for. Along with this class, all stakeholders would be involved: students, parents, community volunteers, and partners in education. I would seek and submit grants aligned with the class. Additionally, I would incorporate field trips, hands-on experiences, and guest speakers within the class. In the elementary grades, it would be mainly focused on self-awareness, understanding the emotions of oneself and others, & building friendships. It would also include basic social responsibility where students learn how to communicate respectfully, not lose their temper, understand elemental safety considerations and empathize with others concepts necessary for a foundation in emotional intelligence. In upper elementary and middle school, students would start learning more involved skills such as goal-setting, time management, conflict resolution, etc. They would also study money and budgeting. A mental health component would be incorporated because there is a high percentage of students who need that support. By high school, they would be able to create budgets, gain a basic understanding of credit debt including student loans and file income taxes. They will know how to make resumes, conduct interviews, set appointments, look after their homes and cars, and cook meals that are both tasty and nutritious. This class is not just about how to survive in adulthood: it's about thriving. Throughout the entire class, students would participate in community service and mentoring as. When they graduate, they would not only know algebra but also how to maintain their mental health, resolve conflicts peacefully or even prepare for a job interview with confidence. The impact of the life class would be momentous. Students evolve from childhood into adult life equipped with both resilience and poise. When confronting real-life problems, they will have the tools to solve problems. Also, they will have more practical knowledge about how to facilitate the transition into adult life. Most importantly, students would graduate feeling like they have acquired strong life skills. In this world of constant change, "Your Life, Your Way" will make sure that every child, no matter what his or her background, will not only be capable of providing for themselves in the future, but will evolve into an empowered productive citizen. That is the required K-12 class that I would create.

: For 28 years, I have dedicated my life to teaching. The Masters & Ed.S specialist degrees that I possess have been instrumental in having a stellar teaching career so far. My current pursuit of a doctoral degree in education directly aligns with my career goals of becoming a stronger leader, consultant, and advocate in education. A Doctor of Education degree will equip me to design more impactful lessons, mentor future educators, and create innovative strategies that will close achievement gaps. I will be fortunate to further expand my educational consulting business that empowers schools, educators, and families through professional development, culturally responsive teaching strategies, and motivational programs. My voice isn't merely heard among the crowds at conferences and community forums, however, nor am I speaking just for applause. I will also facilitate workshops; inspire future teachers, particularly women of color; and lobby for fairer educational policies that serve each child, regardless of zip code. My doctorate will open opportunities for my own growth and for others to follow in my footsteps. Community outreach is the lifeline of my work. I’ll organize events that bring schools and parents together and participate in family literacy nights. In America’s churches, community centers, and living rooms, education keeps flowing. Through these ventures, I’ll be able to be a positive influence on the very neighborhoods that once influenced me. As an aspiring Doctor of Education, I plan to use my education to create transformative change in both classrooms and communities. My mission is to empower underserved students, mentor future educators, and design inclusive programs that close achievement gaps. With advanced training and research, I aim to launch initiatives that promote equity, cultural relevance, and family engagement in schools—particularly in communities that have historically been overlooked. Beyond the school walls, I will be partnering with local organizations, and hosting outreach events that connect families, educators, and youth with vital resources. I believe education is not just a career—it’s a calling to uplift, inspire, and ignite lasting change. This scholarship will be a crucial part of my journey. It will ease financial burdens, allowing me to focus fully on my doctoral studies, community engagement, and professional growth. With this support, I can continue pouring into others while building a stronger, more informed foundation for advocacy and innovation in education. Your investment in my future will not end with me—it will multiply in every student I teach, every life I touch, and every community I serve.

In my dreams, I am always walking with heart and mind uplifted by the new things pulling me forward. I look forward to the day I can say, "Hello! I am Dr. Tamika Blythers, a proud Doctor of Education, lifelong educator, and servant leader, impacting lives through knowledge, empowerment, and relationship. I can give, lead, and teach in hopes that the impact crosses campus lines and ripples through the country and beyond to international communities where joy, rehabilitation, and opportunity are needed. In my dream life, I am fortunate to continue to expand my educational consulting business that supports schools, educators, and family members in professional development, culturally responsive teaching practices, and motivational programs. I will lead my own workshops; offer inspiration to future teachers, especially women of color; and use my knowledge and instincts to advocate for more equitable educational policies that help all children, no matter their zip code. My Ed.D. will pave the way for myself and for others to grow. Engaging the community is my heartbeat. I’ll lead programs that get schools and parents working together, and I’ll take on a family literacy night. In America’s churches and community centers, in living rooms and online, education keeps flowing. Through these initiatives, I am able to uplift the very neighborhoods that shaped me, showing students and parents what’s possible when someone cares enough to pour back in. I'll also collaborate with local nonprofits, mentor at-risk youth, and serve on educational advisory boards to ensure that community voices remain part of the decision-making process. I’m dreaming not just of taking in life though. I give 100% of my time to my family—savoring every milestone, every meal, every moment. Whether we are sitting around the table eating Sunday dinner or traveling abroad as a family, these are sources of consistent happiness. I don’t just travel for pleasure—I travel for education. I travel because it helps me to learn about other cultures, which in turn makes me a better teacher. This scholarship is a strong opening door for me to finish my doctorate and grow my ability to make a long-lasting difference. It means more than a number; it represents faith in my vision and the future I’m building. This way, I won’t just be achieving my own goals; I’ll be helping others achieve theirs. My dream life is not in the next life. I shall plant my dream with the same zeal with which it was brought, and I shall plant it consciously and deliberately.